


Sleepover

by starwalker42



Series: Sortis (orig. on FF.Net) [8]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Mentions of Cancer, Post-Episode: s05e01-02 Redux, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25449955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwalker42/pseuds/starwalker42
Summary: A moment of time no one expected would ever come again.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Series: Sortis (orig. on FF.Net) [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745140
Kudos: 29





	Sleepover

DANA SCULLY RESIDENCE, MARYLAND, October 1997

Mulder used to tell himself that he did it because she needed his company, not because he was desperately trying to spend as many moments of her rapidly-dwindling life with her as he could. It was futile, but he tried anyway, if only to distract himself from dwelling on the fact that soon he wouldn't be able to do this with her.

Soon, she'd be dead. And when she went, so would everything that made his life bearable.

Never, ever, did he consider her cancer disappearing, and being able to spend an evening with her without the cloud of illness hovering over them.

But that's where they are.

In the months before, they'd started doing it in almost wordless agreement- he'd find an excuse to discuss a case after work, or they'd go for drinks, or they'd decide to go to a movie because, if they were honest, they didn't have anyone else to go with, and going to the cinema was an easy way of being together without discussing anything potentially problematic. Besides, as Scully put once, you can't be an FBI agent investigating the paranormal and _not_ see a film like _Men In Black_.

Sometimes, the nights Mulder liked best, they'd just stay at her apartment and listen to terrible music (turned out Scully had a thing for punk rock) or play cards, and sometimes order pizza. Sometimes it was almost possible to forget about her cancer, watching her smile and joke along with him.

Other nights it was the only thing he could think about. He came over once to find her almost passed out over the sink, blood streaming from her nose, and was only prevented from taking her to the ER when Scully reminded him that there was nothing they could do. Another time, she told him about the chemo and what it did, and he'd started crying over her kitchen table and feeling like an idiot because it was her who was dying, not him.

Some nights she had no appetite, or couldn't smile no matter how hard he tried to make her, and those were the nights that his heart collapsed in on itself as she'd ask him to stay without meeting his eyes, and they'd wake up in each other's arms and not discuss it afterwards.

Tonight she still can't manage it, addressing his shoes as she says _it's late, you're tired, stay here tonight_ , but everything else is different. The last time this happened he hadn't killed a spy in his apartment, or faked his own death, and she had not been saved at the eleventh hour after he almost made a deal with the devil.

It's the second day since she was released from hospital. He's spent the last week with her, never leaving her bedside, irritating and perplexing staff and family alike, but he still doesn't feel ready to go. He can never get enough of her smile, of the way her eyes sparkle with renewed light, or the way she says his name. He never wants to leave. If he could, if she allowed, he'd spend the rest of his life with her, just watching in silent awe from the sidelines.

They don't talk. Mulder is going to offer to take the couch but he knows that she wants him close, so he lies on the bed and waits for her. When she comes out of the bathroom, wrapped in her dressing gown, he's reminded of that night in the hospital right after Penny Northern died- how small she seemed, how fragile.

She's still so thin, so pale. Her appetite is returning, but it'll be a while until her emaciated look goes. He can see her ribs over the top of the dressing gown, almost as prominent as her collarbone, and her blue, thread veins are visible under her paper-like skin. Her hair's still brittle and no longer shines the way it used to, and Mulder's seen the way her legs shake if she's standing for too long. Even with the cancer no longer invading her body, she's still ill, and the signs of its presence are far from gone.

"Okay?" he asks her, sitting up a little.

Scully smiles- properly, but still weakly, and nods. "I'm fine, Mulder. Just tired."

She casts her dressing gown aside and he gets off the bed, hanging it up for her. The fabric smells like her, like vanilla and bubble bath and safety rather than the hospital and death. He fights not to inhale the scent off it.

"Mulder?"

He turns around. She's under the covers, curled up, the way he's learnt she sleeps, and looking at him. She's so small in that big bed.

"Cold?"

"A little," she nods. "Can you…?"

He crosses the room and climbs onto the bed. After a moment, Scully shuffles closer, and he hesitantly places an arm around her, holding her.

"Better?"

"Yeah," she breathes into his chest. Her hand finds his and she holds on tight. Her breathing begins to slow, and she relaxes against him, drifting off to sleep.

Mulder allows himself to think of what it would be like doing this every night, sharing her bed, and realises that this may be the closest he ever gets. The thought sobers him a little, but then Scully mumbles in her sleep, shifting closer to him, and he realises that this is enough, for now.

He kisses her forehead, and reminds himself that two weeks ago, he never dreamed he'd be able to do this again. Tonight is nothing sort of a miracle.

He closes his eyes and hope they never run out of them.


End file.
